


Talk

by ColleagueOne



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColleagueOne/pseuds/ColleagueOne
Summary: A nineteen-minute wait at the bus stop and an hour ride to her second job, Byulyi rides the same bus every day except Sundays. Then there's her ー the woman who waits at the same stop and rides the same bus on Mondays and Wednesdays.
Relationships: Kim Yongsun | Solar/Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fresh from Twitter and transferred to Ao3. Please enjoy!

She arrives just a few seconds before the bus stopped and Byulyi couldn’t help but mouth _aigoo_ to herself.

The poor woman was already breathing heavily ー _had she been running from a distance?_ ー her hair a complete mess. She seemed cold too, the tip of her nose and ears red as she blew at her hands and the sight of it made Byulyi tighten her hold around her hot packs, shoving them deeper into her padded jacket’s pockets as she fought back the urge to hand them over to the stranger. She would seem like a creep if she were to approach the woman all of a sudden, or so Byulyi argued with herself, and so she settles with an apology instead, unspoken, but chanted in a mantra at the back of her head.

_Sorry. You must be freezing. Please buy hot packs next time._

They don’t know each other but Byulyi was familiar with her or, well, as familiar as one could be without even knowing their name.

They _meet_ every seven in the evening on Mondays and Wednesdays, patiently standing at the bus stop as they wait for their ride to arrive. Sometimes, it was Byulyi who would arrive early, always there ten or fifteen minutes before the bus’ scheduled arrival. The stranger would always look tired during those times, a frown on her lips maybe, or a full-blown scowl. Other times it was her who would be there before Byulyi and during then she often seemed fine ー _happy_ , even, and Byulyi couldn’t help but think that maybe it’s because she’s able to get home from work early.

It must be. Byulyi would be happy as hell too if she could clock out of work on time.

She must have had to work for a few extra minutes today. It would explain why she had almost missed the bus and why she seemed so flush and irritable.

Taking a step back, Byulyi gestured for the woman to step into the bus first as soon as its doors opened. It was the least she could do in exchange for being unable to hand her the hot packs and at least the bus’ heater was blowing in full, warming up everyone in the ride as soon as they were seated.

“You can sit here.”

It takes Byulyi a few seconds to realize that the stranger was talking to her, glancing behind her first to see if there was anyone standing there before pointing at herself just for confirmation’s sake.

Sure they’ve seen each other a number of times, every Mondays and Wednesdays for the past twelve months, almost, but they never spoke to each other, so of course, she’s a little bit surprised, blinking a few times and glancing around her still as she slowly took her seat beside the stranger.

The bus was packed, maybe that’s why the stranger offered the seat beside her? It must be.

“Thank you.” Byulyi finally managed as she willed herself to relax in her seat, puzzled, although she tries to show it less.

"It's not like I own the bus seats. There's no need to thank me." The woman answered, hugging her backpack close to her and it takes a lot from Byulyi not to break into a smile when she notices the Rilakkuma ornament dangling from the bag's zipper.

How cute.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence, mostly because they didn't really have anything to talk about, to begin with, and the fact remains that they are still strangers to each other, so Byulyi doesn't push it, popping on her earphones instead for some music.

The woman gets off the bus a stop earlier than Byulyi and she doesn't forget that, so quick to stand up from her seat so she could get out much easier. This surprises the stranger, or so it looked like it did what with her slightly widened eyes, and Byulyi could only offer a lopsided smile in exchange.

"Thank you." The woman mouthed, sure that Byulyi wouldn't hear her anyway were she to voice it out.

Byulyi just nodded her head in response, biting back the urge to say _have a good evening_.

But she hopes the woman does as she watches her get off the bus, the straps of her pink backpack thrown haphazardly over her shoulders and once again, Byulyi couldn't help but smile to herself.

A black business suit paired with a pink backpack with Rilakkuma ornaments. How odd indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't meet again until Wednesday, as usual.

They don't meet again until Wednesday, as usual.

It's something Byulyi had always been curious about ー see, she takes this same bus every day (except for Sunday, she lazes around at home on Sundays) at exactly the same time as any other day unless Naver Map tells her that the rides on that day would have few minutes delay due to ice or accidents ー so it's very noticeable, how this stranger only takes the bus on Mondays and Wednesdays specifically, and that only leaves Byulyi wondering.

Does she cover shifting schedules, perhaps? It must be tiring, if so. No wonder she looks like a grump most of the time.

She was wearing something lighter now. Something more casual. The beige knitted sweater, maroon skirt paired with same-colored beret and heeled brown winter boots looked good on her, and Byulyi couldn't help but appreciate how the fishtail braid on her golden locks seemed to just suit her and _oh_ , she cut her hair. It used to be longer but now it barely passes her shoulders. That suits her too.

 _Still, why the suit last Monday?_ Byuyli's lips pull into a frown as she pondered about it more, except almost instantly her trail of thoughts gets cut off by the woman's piercing brown eyes ー wide and curious upon meeting Byulyi's own ー before slightly creasing to couple with her smile and Byulyi's left gawking. Speechless. Surprised. Panicking, just a bit.

The woman bows her head in a silent greeting and Byulyi hurriedly does the same, her own bow just a tad bit too hasty and clumsy that she prays for the stranger not notice.

 _Caught staring. How embarrassing._ She could almost scold and hit herself if only she wasn't so stiff, breath held in as the woman stopped just beside her to form a short line.

"Cold today."

She heard the woman say under her breath and Byulyi thinks for a while that maybe it was just her imagination except when she gives her a quick glance, they once again meet gazes and Byulyi couldn't help but hope she's not wrong in assuming that perhaps she was talking to her after all.

"Isn't it?" The woman added, offering her a smile and that was all the sign Byulyi needed to realize that she really was talking to her.

"Oh…"

Oh. _Oh_. That's the best answer she could give, brain short-circuiting as she tries to acknowledge the fact that they were talking to each other.

They’ve never spoken to each other before and always endured the whole waiting for the bus in silence so why would the stranger talk to her now? Surely the short exchange they had last Monday didn’t suddenly change anything ー everyone gives quick thank yous to each other, it was nothing out of the ordinary or, well, it was supposed to be nothing out of the ordinary but the woman was looking at her with this bright expectant eyes that Byulyi couldn’t help but think maybe Monday really did change things and maybe, _just maybe_ , the stranger really was trying to strike a conversation with her.

“Oh.” She mutters again, wetting her lips as she tries to think of something else to say.

Small talks.

Byulyi was never good at small talks despite working part-time at a convenience store and café for the past two years and she could almost hear Sandeul say in that annoying voice of his: _Funny_ , _you're so good at flirting when women approach you first but you're actually chicken shit when it comes to approaching strangers yourself._

She'll hit him today at the café the moment she arrives, just because he's being annoying in her head right now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byulyi groaned, sitting down on the floor with her back resting against the kitchen walls, her face buried into her palms.
> 
> She hates Sundays.

Thursday moves slowly and Byulyi finds herself very irritable by the time Friday has rolled in.

It must be because of Sandeul, selfishly chatting all too loudly on the phone with his friend DinDin during work hours. Then again, who could blame him? They worked graveyard and who with the right mind would be up drinking coffee at 3 am in the morning?

Well, aside from the only three customers sat at the tables in the café, that is.

So she was bored. And so was Sandeul. And while Sandeul opted to call DinDin for his sanity's sake because apparently the rapper-wannabe never sleeps either, Byulyi was left to suffer through their laughing and shitty jokes.

Saturday was busy.

The convenience store during mid-shift was a little bit empty and it offered her a few minutes of snoozes but other than that, everything else was _hectic_.

The coffee shop was already filled by the time she had arrived and that was at nine in the evening and it doesn’t die down even after midnight, people stepping in and out from the glass doors one after another, orders seemingly endless until they’ve ultimately run out of bread and sweets and Sandeul has to run to the storage room for more coffee beans when that, too, began running out.

The sun rising and burning her skin through the shop’s glass windows was her only saving grace that day; a sign that it was finally time for her to head home and melt into her bed.

If only the day would end as soon as she clocks out of work.

Alas, Sunday meant she needed to buy groceries and what better and cheaper way is there to fill her fridge other than the public market?

So she drags herself towards the markets instead, her steps sluggish and her shoulders slumped as she made her way there and if it’s even possible, Byulyi felt the scowl on her face grow as soon as she stood by the entrance. Six in the morning. It was only six in the morning and already the public market was filled.

Everything else was hazy from there. She thinks she managed to buy a few vegetables after thirty minutes of struggle and then, after a while, she finally decided to give up.

It felt like her head was about to split into two, partly from exhaustion and also from the headache that was only worsening by the second and Byulyi feared that she might just collapse should she spend another hour there instead of sleeping so she threw her hands up in the air, muttering _fuck it_ before buying takeout at the nearest restaurant and finally, _finally_ she was on her way home.

She wakes up three in the afternoon, light makeup still on, hair disheveled and she hasn’t even changed out of her clothes and it’s ridiculous, how she’s even more tired now that she finally slept.

Moon Byulyi was a definite homebody during Sundays, wishing nothing but to hug her bed, comfortable and happy with just being wrapped around her blankets. Laziness was bliss after a whole week of nothing but work but at the same time, she just can't seem to stay put, rolling about in her bed once, twice, tossing and twisting about until she gives up with a loud groan and a kick of her blanket off of her.

Breakfast. That must be why she's so frustrated. She hasn't had breakfast yet.

_"Breakfast… breakfast! Fuck!"_

Curses escape from her lips one after another as she hurriedly ran to the kitchen, dread engulfing her whole.

The takeout box she had brought home was still there, left abandoned on the countertop and she could only slap her hand on her forehead. She remembers coming home all too exhausted. She remembers leaving the takeout box on the countertop so she can brush her teeth and then ー and then she remembers forgetting about it completely ー her legs taking her to her bed as soon as she was done. Collapsing. Falling asleep instantly.

She was supposed to shove it into the refrigerator before passing out. Even the aunty from the small restaurant had advised her the same: _grilled intestines spoil rather quickly if left out, make sure to put it in the refrigerator._

But she didn't.

 _She didn't_ and now she could only hope that ー _no_ ー she heaved out the heaviest of sighs. It was spoiled, and no amount of hoping will save her food.

Byulyi groaned, sitting down on the floor with her back resting against the kitchen walls, her face buried into her palms.

She hates Sundays.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Monday is definitely a lot better than Sunday, she thinks.

“Oh? I got here before you this time.”

They meet again Monday evening at the bus stop, as usual, and Byulyi finds herself frozen in her spot for two reasons: one, she was surprised to see that she was there first and two, she was talking to her. _Again_.

She still feels guilty about last Wednesday, when the stranger spoke to her and the best she could say in response was a mere " _Oh_ " because really, Byulyi wanted to say more. Right now she wants to apologize, for example, and she also wants to ask her how her day was or why she's here so early but then nothing comes when she finally parts her lips to speak. She opens her mouth and then closes it without the slightest of sound escaping, and then she tries again, slowly rubbing her hands against her jeans, palms already too sweaty for her liking. But there's nothing. She says nothing.

Fuck. _Fuck_. She can't speak, somehow, and it's a little bit frustrating how she just can't find the words to say.

"You seemed upset when you just got here. Well, you still do now, but…"

Byulyi blinked, pausing for the hundredth time as she tilted her head at the woman's words. Did she? Then again, yesterday was awful and today's shift at the convenience store was just shit. It would explain why she's so easily frustrated tonight.

"Mondays, right? I hate it too…" the woman trailed off, finally letting the silence settle in as she turned her attention back to her phone.

And Byulyi panics a little. Once again, she was about to let the conversation die without her saying much. Once again, she was about to act as if she was ignoring her but she isn't. _She isn't_. So speak. **_Speak_**.

"I, uh… I hate Sundays more than Mondays."

The stranger turned her head up to her once more, surprise clear on her features and Byulyi finally notices the mole right under her eyebrow. Just like hers, only that it's the opposite side.

"Oh?" The stranger answered, and Byulyi smiles a little.

Yeah. Monday is definitely a lot better than Sunday, she thinks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't even exchange Hi's and Byulyi scolds herself for waiting until the bus was there before actually making an attempt at talking because it was already too late by then.

Byuyli doesn't realize how she has somewhat gotten used to the woman talking to her first until Wednesday evening came.

She seemed upset, what with her crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows and there's also that thin frown on her lips, a telltale sign that her day was about to end on a sour note and Byulyi couldn't help but shift about in her place as she wondered what could have happened.

 _Please don't look so upset,_ she wanted to say because she definitely looks much better with a smile on her lips and _no_ , Byulyi wouldn't be saying that as a cheesy pick-up line of sorts. It was the truth. The blonde definitely looked much brighter, much more wonderful, when she's happy. _Everyone does_ , Byulyi added, quietly burying her hands deeper into the pockets of her bright yellow jacket with a pout on her own lips. _Everyone looks better when they're happy._

They don't even exchange Hi's and Byulyi scolds herself for waiting until the bus was there before actually making an attempt at talking because it was already too late by then. Too late, and Byulyi could only watch as the woman took her seat a few benches away from her.

 _So no conversations today_.

It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She hated not knowing what to do (actually, she does and in her mind, it looks so easy to do ー standing up from where she sat, that is ー to move and sit beside the woman instead and then she would strike a conversation, starting with how are you, maybe, ultimately ending it with goodbyes once they've reached their stops) and Byulyi couldn't help but simply wallow herself up with the feeling of guilt, of sadness and disappointment towards herself, the more she thinks about how hard it is to actually do.

 _Forget it_ , she crinkles her nose now, silently fishing her phone out so she could drown her thoughts away with music instead.

They can just go back to how it was at first, then, she sighed, although Byulyi's frown only seemed to deepen at the thought of it and as though a stubborn child she makes an attempt at hiding it by resting her elbow on the bus window, palm covering her lips.

The song begins with synths, quiet at first before slowly fading in. She takes the chance to glance at the woman again and, Byulyi thinks, it's ridiculous how round those cheeks are and how _grumpy_ she already seems with that scowl on her face.

_Can we just talkー_

_Of course_ , she snorts, laughing and wincing all at the same time.

_Can we just talk? Talk about where we're goingー_

_Sorry._ Byulyi shifts in her seat, moving her hands back to her lap as she twiddles her thumbs before dragging her palm along her jeans. _I'll talk to you on Monday. I promise._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My birthday was yesterday so thank you," slightly lifting the cup up for the other to see, Byulyi smiles just a bit more, "for the birthday present."

Her palms tend to grow sweaty and sometimes it gets too annoying, too obnoxious, for her liking, like how she laughs with her nose muscles or how she can't help but mirror what her hand is doing with the other. These were things she would end up doing unconsciously. Things she can't quite control and it's annoying, she thinks.

It's annoying and Byulyi thinks she hates it.

So she curses under her breath as she runs her sweaty palms down the rough fabric of her jeans, seemingly restless as she scanned around her surroundings and the corner of Byulyi's lips eventually pulls into a frown when there's still no sight of her.

She checks her wristwatch. Ten minutes before the bus comes. Is she working late today?

Her shoulders slump and she limply drops her arm back to her side, sulking much like a child as she kicks a tiny pebble. Just when she decides she wanted to talk to her first and of course she wouldn't be here. It must be a sign. A sign that she shouldn't. A sign that she should just remain an observer, and merely just an observer.

 _That stings_. And Byulyi isn't really sure why but it sucks all the same.

"What's gotten you so sad tonight?"

The first thing she noticed was the scent of coffee ー freshly brewed, from the smell of it ー and she can't help but take a deep breath in as though just its aroma would help warm her up. Then she makes a turn, now facing the one person she had been searching for and Byulyi thinks that the smile on her face, too, could warm her up just as much.

She hears her snort and instantly Byulyi could feel her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Had she been wearing a ridiculous look on her face? God, she hoped not. Minhyuk used to mention about how she tends to space out with her lips slightly parted and her eyes round and wide.

Byulyi purses her lips together. _Yep._ Her mouth was open. _Fuck_.

"Here you go." Once again, it was the woman who broke the short silence, holding out a cup of coffee for Byulyi to take.

"Hm?"

"Coffee. It's cold tonight so I got you one, too."

"Oh…"

She took the coffee gratefully with a small bow of her head, absolutely enamored of its wonderful aroma.

“I didn’t know what sort of coffee you wanted so I went for an americano.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve got packets of sugar here if you want?”

“It’s perfect as it is. I like my coffee black.”

The expression on the woman’s face immediately twisted into that of disbelief and disgust, and Byulyi finds herself holding back the urge to laugh at the sight of it.

“Black?” She finally asked, eyes growing wider, “Why? Do you hate yourself or something? Why would you torture your tongue like that?”

“I don’t hate myself.” Crinkling her nose, Byulyi laughed a little. “I just... I just like it that way. I guess I got too used to it after working the graveyard shift and drinking one too many black coffee.”

“Mm,” the blonde hummed, taking a sip of her own drink, “of black coffee and graveyard shifts. You do hate yourself, then.”

She rolls her eyes, lips still pulled into a small smile although she tries to hide it with small sips from her drink. The night was cold, Byulyi finally noticed, and she watches with a hint of amusement as her sigh comes out in a form of white wisps.

Just earlier she didn’t even notice it ー too busy wondering where the other was; too busy worrying and sulking that it’s surprising, almost, how warm and content she feels now. It must be the coffee.

She tapped her forefinger against the paper cup a few times and she takes a moment to listen to her fast-beating heart, nervous, all of a sudden, as she licked her lips and searched for the next words to say. "By the way, um… Thank you…" Byulyi trailed off and she tightened her hold around the takeout cup for the much-needed comfort and warmth. She takes a sip, letting its warm bitterness settle in before quietly adding, "for the present."

The woman only looks at her with a raised eyebrow. "Present?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, right... Christmas is in a few days."

 _Oh yeah. Christmas._ Byulyi hummed, having only remembered the holiday then and she chuckled quietly to herself. All the snow and Christmas songs blasting from the stores around them and she didn't even think of that until just now. How silly. "Yes, but no."

"No?" Tilting her head to the side, the blonde frowns now, eyebrows meeting in between in deep thought. "You want a different Christmas present? Well, I suppose coffee is a bit too cheap to be one..."

"N-No, no! I don't mean that."

Finally, the bus arrives, rusty brakes crying as it came to a halt in front of them.

"My birthday was yesterday so thank you," slightly lifting the cup up for the other to see, Byulyi smiles just a bit more, "for the birthday present."

And Byulyi quickly made her way into the bus, afraid it would leave if they take a second longer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To think that she was so determined a few days ago, whispering hellos in front of the mirror like an idiot until Sandeul called her out for it. It looked like all the practice she had done was of no use: talking to the woman still felt like a challenge and she could barely speak. Her lips would move, but her voice would betray her, like always.

What she didn't expect was for the woman to take a seat beside her, so full of smiles and mirth that she's left staring.

She must be crazy _ー her_ , not the stranger ー for wanting to assume that maybe she chose to sit by her side because, well, they know each other now. Barely, yes, but enough to feel comfortable around each other at least. Or maybe it was just that all other seats are taken by at least one person so she would have to sit beside someone regardless and Byulyi, whether she liked it or not, happened the best choice out of everyone else.

Whatever the reason was, Byulyi felt herself stiffen. Tense all of a sudden as she remembers why she was looking around for the blonde earlier.

 _Wednesday._ She wanted ー _needed_ , maybe, for the sake of satisfying her curiosity ー to ask about last Wednesday and while she may have failed at her plans of striking conversations first, this could be a chance to redeem herselfー

"Happy Birthday."

ーor not.

Byulyi gave a quiet hum, eyes locked at her lap and the tattered design of her jeans. She slips her ring and middle finger through the cut, absentmindedly scratching at her skin just to distract herself, unsure of what to say other than her nod and the quiet whisper of _thank you_ that manages to slip past her lips.

 _Ask about Wednesday._ She feels her fingernails dig into the skin of her lap. _It’s not that hard. Just say it: why did you look so upset last Wednesday? What happened? Are you feeling better today? You seem to be in a better mood today. That’s good._

 _That’s good,_ Byulyi mouthed, consciously or not, her lips slightly pulled into a smile. The woman definitely looked much better like this: relaxed, contented.

“This Wednesday…”

Her head turns perhaps a bit too eagerly towards the woman and she waits patiently for her to continue.

"Will you be working?"

Oh. “I’m… I’m not sure, actually.”

“Ah…” The stranger trailed off.

“Are you?”

She wrinkled her nose, a pout on her lips and Byulyi snorts in amusement.

“No breaks for me, sadly. Even this Wednesday.”

“That’s unfair.”

“What can I say?” The woman shifted in her seat and there it was again ー that pink backpack with Rilakkuma ornaments ー pulled tightly into her arms as though it held precious golds inside, “such is a corporate slave’s life.”

And they were back in silence.

There was this urge to groan welling up within Byulyi, her disappointment towards herself only growing tenfold and she could almost bring her hands up to her face to whine into. _Just ask_ , she hissed, though only in her thoughts, fighting no one but herself, _Or not, but don’t let the conversation die at least._

To think that she was so determined a few days ago, whispering _hellos_ in front of the mirror like an idiot until Sandeul called her out for it. It looked like all the practice she had done was of no use: talking to the woman still felt like a challenge and she could barely speak. Her lips would move, but her voice would betray her, like always.

 _Like always_ , Byulyi frowned, sighing quietly. She dug her hand into her pockets instead, searching for her earphones to tune out the silence with. Better this than nothing, she thought bitterly while scrolling through her playlist before hitting the first song that caught her interest.

“I always see you listening to songs on the bus.”

She barely hears and she quickly pulls one earphone out from her ear. “Hm? Oh. Yeah. I guess I do.”

The woman smiled, “what do you usually listen to?”

“Just, uh…” Before she could answer, the bus came to a stop, its old brakes briefly piercing all the passenger's ears.

"Oh. This is my stop..." The blonde muttered, disappointment clear in her voice as she stood up from her seat and put on her backpack. It fitted her outfit more this time, although the colors don’t match quite as well. "Have a good evening, yeah?"

 _Yeah?_ Byulyi furrowed her eyebrows. An odd thing to add for a farewell greet, but she nodded her head nonetheless, watching as the woman hurriedly jogged off the bus before the impatient driver could close its doors.

She waited until the bus had resumed moving before putting the earpiece back on, reading the song title from her phone’s lock screen just as she presses play and she laughs while listening closely to the lyrics.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What the fuck is that?”_
> 
> Byulyi’s quick to throw a glare at Sandeul as soon as she heard him ask, utter disgust clear in his voice. Unfortunately for her, while many people would shut their mouths and hide away the moment she threatens them with a punch, Sandeul, much to her dismay, had become immune to her beatings.

_Tight-fitting pants suit her._

Byulyi immediately felt her face redden at her own thoughts and although she knew she shouldn't, she soon found her eyes trailing down to the other woman's rear and there it was again, that stupid look of hers: lips slightly parted in a shape of _o_ , voice caught within her throat.

The woman cleared her throat and she could only wish that a hole would suddenly appear and swallow her completely the moment their gazes meet ー she was smiling, the woman, _cheekily so_ and Byulyi swears she had been caught for sure.

"So you're working today as well."

Like a fish out of water, Byulyi's lips moved without a sound, parting and closing before finally settling instead with a thinly pursed frown.

 _Fuck_.

“That’s a relief,”

The woman continued instead as if she could already tell how Byulyi found it difficult to respond ー or maybe she really could because Byulyi was half convinced that she’s the least discreet woman and that everyone at the bus stop could probably feel her and sense her nervousness. _I can smell your sweaty hands all the way here!_ She could almost hear Sandeul tease; it was his favorite catchphrase whenever Byulyi found herself a stuttering mess.

“I was worried I wouldn’t see you today.”

“Oh, um…” Byulyi cleared her throat with a cough, one hand now rubbing the back of her neck, “yeah. No one else was willing to take over my shift for the holidays so here I am.”

“That’s good.”

She hears the sound of boots against ground and Byulyi's eyes, once again, wanders. And she hated it. She hated how impossible it was for her to look away, nervously swallowing the lump in her throat down as she eyed the woman's boots; well-fit for winter, heeled with fur and it was a killer, eyes slowly moving upwards, because it only emphasized her thighs and even more so herー

"ーHere."

Blinking, Byulyi hurriedly turned her head up to look at the stranger and she's sure she caught the woman smirking for a split second. Or perhaps it was just her imagination? It must be and she’s certain she’s going crazy all on her own.

_God, it's suddenly hot in winter._

" _Here_ ," the blonde repeated, a hint of impatience in her voice. Byulyi finally notices the tiny Christmas paper bag then, thrust out to her. "Merry Christmas."

She merely raised her eyebrows, utterly confused.

“A Christmas present.” The woman rolled her eyes with a huff, taking Byulyi’s hand in her own so she could place the tiny present in her palm instead. “I didn’t get you a present for your birthday, so consider this a late birthday present, too.”

“Oh I… I didn’t… I didn’t prepare a presentー”

"That's alright," she smiled and that alone only made Byulyi feel even more guilty. "Go on then, open it up."

"Right." Clumsily, Byulyi undid the ribbons that kept the paper bag shut, pausing for a moment as soon as she opened it.

"Well?" She could almost hear the smile in the blonde's voice, "do you like it?"

 _Well,_ Byulyi thought to herself, taking the small Rilakkuma keychain from inside the bag. "It's… cute."

“Go on then.”

“Hm?”

The woman was looking up at her with round expectant eyes now and Byulyi could already feel the dread welling up from within her.

“Put it on your bag.” _Oh_. Byulyi bit back the urge to frown, eyeing the Rilakkuma keychain in her hand and glancing over to her plain black messenger bag. _It doesn’t fit_ , she wanted to say, but the woman continues before she could, “kind of like mine, see?”

The barista’s shoulders slumped at the sight of the pink bag with Rilakkuma dangling from its zipper.

The bus finally pulls over before them and with a gesture from the stranger, Byulyi got on first, opting for one of the benches at the middle and taking her seat by the window.

_“What the fuck is that?”_

Byulyi’s quick to throw a glare at Sandeul as soon as she heard him ask, utter disgust clear in his voice. Unfortunately for her, while many people would shut their mouths and hide away the moment she threatens them with a punch, Sandeul, much to her dismay, had become immune to her beatings.

“Are you really Moon Byulyi? What the fuck ー Rilakkuma? Ow!”

Or maybe he enjoys it, his laughter filling the locker room as soon as Byulyi hit him with her messenger bag.

“It’s not mine.” She hissed, kicking his leg before shoving him away from her locker so she could get changed.

“Not yours, huh? So then why is it attached to your bag?”

“Becauseー!”

Byulyi furrowed her brows as she recalled the conversation she had with the woman on the bus. The excited look on her face. That grin. How her eyes seemed to sparkle with joy.

_“Put it on.”_

_“Oh, I will… Maybe on my backp-”_

_“No, put it on now, I want to see how it looks.”_

And then she remembers the demanding tone of her voice, and how she could only but obey, fumbling about as she gingerly attached the stupid Rilakkuma keychain to her precious messenger bag.

Sandeul’s laughter filled the whole room once more, the man now clutching onto his stomach as he wheezed about and Byulyi thinks she might just beat her co-worker up on Christmas day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Catch me at @carryknoweezy on Twitter for some updates or what not!


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